Hands Clean
by Eirenei
Summary: HP/PoT X-over - Seven dvarwes - oops, brats who search for their Snow White. This is SLASH, don't like, don't read! OT6/Ryoga/Harry. Rated for language and ... unusual situations /snerk/


HANDS CLEAN

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Prince of Tennis and Harry Potter or its' characters. I only own the premise. Oh, and the song is _Hands Clean_, by Alanis Morisette.

**Warnings:** Slash, boy x boy love – you've been warned. If you don't like, don't read!

_Ooh this could be messy  
but you don't seem to mind  
ooh don't go telling everybody  
and overlook this supposed crime_

This could be messy…..

Very, very messy, in fact.

He was a teacher, he was older than they were by a decade, they were together, and he had his own supposed lover… not very ideal situation, all right, it was situation straight from hell, but they still wanted it.

Well we wanted it. Saa, this is strange for ya, isn't it? So, let me tell you how it all began.

_**(Syusuke)**_

It wasn't that we were already together…. Well, that was before we even got together as a whole. There were seen some sparks between us, most notably between Ryo – chan and Kei – chan, and I so admit I harboured a little fondness on certain buchou of ours.

Then, one day, he walked in our class.

He was supposed to be our new teacher for English. I do admit I was curious as to who would take over the lectures, since Umino-san retired. I was expecting someone old and…well, not him, anyway. I still vividly remember that one day.

The sakura trees were in full bloom, and I was half – heartedly listening to Tezuka and Inui planning our next training regime, when the bell rang. Then, the Umino – san stepped into the classroom.

"Class, as you already know, you will get a new teacher for English today. Please, welcome Asakura Hatori." Then, he entered the room.

My eyes involuntarily opened to the end.

He was slender, and could be considered almost petite. However, that wasn't what caught my attention the most. It was his eyes.

They were green. The green of a richest emerald, such a shade shouldn't be able to exist as a colour in human eyes. Keen, intelligent gaze slid over the room, as he softly nodded. His hair was dark, with silver streaks in it, enhancing its' wild appearance.

"Konnichiwa, minna-san. Let's work together."

His voice was soft yet firm, masculine and musical at the same time. But what surprised me, was that he didn't have any recognisable accent.

If you don't know, I like mysteries. Moreover, there, I had one delectable mystery to solve… suffice to say, I was hooked.

_**/Kunimitsu/**_

Whenever Fuji's attention was on something, the recipient should fear for their life… or better yet, their sanity. Usually, I do not take care in his little sadistic pet projects, as I have more than enough of problems with our wayward tennis club, and I really do not wish to be disturbed for life.

But Asakura-sensei….

I was always interested in English literature and language, and even considered to take English course in university. As this was our last year before the exams, I was understandably concerned, as Umino – sensei was absent a lot, and we didn't do much in the class to prepare for the end of the year exams.

I have seen him around. How could I not, as he was our neighbour? He was quiet, a little bit on secretive side, but generally, he got along with people. My grandfather had a talk with him, and he was impressed, which was no mere feat to achieve.

But Asakura- sensei somehow did it.

I often spend the time – whenever I had the time – in his flat, talking with him, or reading one of the English books he had in abundance. He was the one to encourage me to write and reach for my dreams other than the tennis. At first, I was afraid, as my grandfather severly disapproved of my decision, but with Asakura-sensei on my side, he relented.

Asakura-sensei was witty, and had a wicked sense of humor. But he also was a deep thinker, and sometimes, I saw him, as he stared somewhere I couldn't follow him. And it saddened me.

Once, I asked him, if he believed in fate,

His green eyes stared into mine, surprised. Then he sat me down, and after few minutes of silence, he began to talk.

"_Fate is only what we can make with our two hands, Kunimitsu. Sometimes, it seems there couldn't be more than one outcome, which is inescapable to play out. Sometimes, the man feels as if he is plaything of gods. Even then, he has his own will; even then, he can decide where the road will take him. But the question is, whether or not he is prepared to sacrifice everything to follow it."_

And his eyes were old, so very, very old.

This evening, I confronted my grandfather, telling him I would enroll in Tokyo U in English major.

And I knew I would give anything, just to see Asakura-sensei smile.

_**(Keigo)**_

Be awed at the Ore-sama's generosity… if it weren't for him, I wouldn't talk to you. So admire my words of wisdom, and don't you DARE to change anything, if you do…..then Ore-sama assures you, Ore-sama could make your miserable lives very…. Unpleasant.

Ah, where were we?

Asakura-sensei. He is a jewel among the men that he is. He is more than worthy of being in Ore-sama magnificent presence….

He is one in a million. Not many people dare to treat me as a mortal, as a human being like they are. Well, Ore-sama is much better than they are, anyway, but…

Hatori was the first one to treat me such. At first, I was infuriated, and demanded of him to apologize to Ore-sama.

What I got, was the hard whack on the head and a long lecture about my …carelessness and idiocy. The man had the galls, I give him that. Even when I told him Ore-sama's glorious name, he did not bat an eye and continued to berate me.

That had to be one of the most humiliating moments in Ore-sama's life…. With exception when that brat shaved off Ore-sama's glorious mane of hair.

He taught me the self-defence. Those three months he did, were the cruellest ones in my life. And imagine my surprise, when I insulted him in Latin, thinking he wouldn't understand it, he got me right back, with perfect lecture why he shouldn't teach idiots like me….

I was shocked. Since that day, we regularly exchanged banters in Latin, and occasionally in Greek.

Some day, he vanished, as if he was not even there to begin with. I was pretty angry, furious, even. I searched for him high and low, because…

…Asakura Hatori belonged to Ore-sama.

_**&Genichiro&**_

He was beautiful. His form was flawless, smooth like water, dancing like fire, and unmatchable like wind, untouchable like lighting, and yet eternal like earth.

He caught my eye as he practiced his _katas,_ his movements enchanting as he flown from one movement into the next. I could not wait to have a match with him, as he was undoubtedly strong, and I yearned to find out how much.

He was passive yet aggressive, calm yet burning…. I yearned to find out who was behind the protective mask he wore as any regular _kendoka_ should.

And one time, I stayed… long enough to catch him without mask.

The thugs thought he would be an easy prey, but it was not so.

I thought he would need help, but he did not.

In less than five minutes, they were incapacitated, lying unconscious on the hard concrete. Then, he turned to me.

Green eyes stared into mine. "Care to join me, Stalker-san?"

And just like that, I was lost.

_**$Ryoma$**_

Che…. What is there to say? Hatori…. He is the only one I don't mind losing to.

You probably didn't know he was my godfather, did you?

I did not even know that I had a godfather… and yet, there he was. I still remember Kaasan's happy tears as she ran to embrace him. Oyayi was happy too, as he challenged him to a match, but Kaasan cuffed him on the head.

It was the only time I saw Oyayi lose.

Make that into lose BADLY.

That was what motivated me to train so hard, so I would play him someday… and win.

The next time we met, I challenged him… and lost.

But I didn't mind.

As I said, he is the only one I do not mind losing to.

Not even my heart.

_**/Seiichi/**_

Hatori-san… he freed me, he showed me I could rise again. Many do not know, but I had a Guillon – Barre's syndrome, a sickness that, if not cured in time, could destroy the nerves, causing a victim never to walk again. When I found out, I was numb with shock.

My dreams seemed to be unreachable in just a few moments.

Then, I met him.

He helped me through the post-operation therapy, encouraging me or kicking my proverbial butt, if I was too miserable to get up and continue.

Many nights and days, I cussed him out, I hated him with a passion of a thousand suns… until, one day, I was free.

I could stay on my legs again, I could move without help again…. I could play tennis again.

We did not talk much. I only knew he was a teacher, working part– time in rehab centre.

He was my angel. He still is.

Not even when I lost against Echizen, I was proud, because I made him happy.

I just hope he would allow me to make him happy… again.

That is my dream.

_***Ryoga***_

I always thought myself straight. Well, I didn't chase after skirts like our Oyayi, but there was no need to, as they chased after me, instead, sometimes, it was fun…. sometimes, it was downright annoying.

I always thought myself to be inclined to a fairer sex. It was true.

But it was equally true, that Hatori – san had a really special little place in my heart, too. I went to him when we had that rift with Oyayi. I came to his flat at 4 am, and he let me in his flat, his hair adorably messy, with that cute scowl on his face…

I respected him as my better in tennis and as sempai, but this night, I saw him as something more than an adult, who was listening to whining of some angsty, bad-tempered teenager.

He was so vulnerable…. Like fragile ice, clear and yet cold, strong and weak at the same time. He understood me more than anyone did, even Ryoma. I could tell him anything, and he would listen to me, offering advice if I wanted it. Sometimes, I wondered how he could know so much about me. It was almost freaky.

But I digress. That night…I saw my future, and I don't intend to let it go past me.

_**/Hatori/**_

For once in my life, I was baffled beyond my words. Whenever I swore to myself, I would abstain from meddling in the others' lives; fate mocks my pitiful attempts with throwing me into the thick of things. After I dealed with the snake-shit, I fled from good ol' England, as I wasn't keen on being their lackasidal hero for all occasions. I had enough of old men trying to manipulate me for the so-called greater good, and I abhorred Ginny's attempts in trying to become my little wifey. Or, should I say, The Man – Who – Won's little wifey.

I had enough. So I decided to get as far away as possible – changed my name, transferred my funds, learned a new language – thank God for fluency charms – and voila, Asakura Hatori was born.

I was happy enough to see my old friend, Nanjiroh, and his lovely wife, Rinko. It was fun to trash him again, as the tennis was our grand passion, than no one of my little friends back in England knew about. And that suited me just fine.

I found myself a flat, near the kind, yet stern old man named Tezuka Kuniharu; we often drank tea with sake and played go, or just talked.

My little idyll was soon shattered by the efforts of one little brat, named Atobe – I just HAD to be a hero and save him from the kidnappers, didn't I? Somehow, I found myself roped into tutoring him for three months, as I couldn't leave him to fend for himself, pitiful as he was. Snape would be proud of me, what with my drilling him into the ground.

The second brat was someone named Yukimura; I tended to him as I worked in the hospital. I have to admit, I couldn't imagine that someone so frail could have an inner core of steel.

To amuse myself, I applied as a teacher for English language, and to my great astonishment, I was accepted. Maybe it would be better, if I wasn't. It seems I involuntarily picked some other brats that decided to follow me was the brightest idea of the day.

I enjoyed my chats with Tezuka – Kunimitsu, that is. The boy was mature, and I liked to talk with him about everything and anything. I even went as so far as to produce some potions for his tennis elbow, along with a good, long talk why exactly should he rest.

Sanada was an enigma. I saw him sometimes, when he visited Yukimura – seems he is a fukubuchou of the famed Rikkai team. I never did interfere in their talks, preferring to stay in the shadows. I had enough brats to follow me as it was!

However, the luck wasn't on my side. Somehow, Sanada has seen me trashing the group of young punks that threatened to rob me, after I was walking from the dojo. Did I mention I had taken up _kendo? _ He was watching me as I was doing my _katas_, but thankfully, he didn't see my face, as we had helmets on.

…. Why is that when it comes to those particular brats, lucks seem to desert me? At that rate, I do not need to buy bad luck talisman – the brats do enough damage as it is!

Ryoga and Ryoma…. Troublesome twosome whose godfather I was. They were truly Trouble with capital T; I just can't seem to decide which one was bigger. Ryoma with his bratty ways or Ryoga with his cockiness… somehow, they adopted me as an honorary father – or at least I was gifted with dubious privilege of being the sole adult they trusted with their secrets.

Fuji was the most irritating one of the bunch. Scarily perceptive, sadistic and a genius. Not a combination I would wish on my worst enemy… but on the other thought, I would. I saw him working wonders with people – he's supreme Slytherin, blackmailing or scaring or tricking them in doing his biddings. I enjoyed ribbing him, refusing him calling his name.

But the thing is, the brats somehow managed to sneak past my defences right into my heart. At first, I was scared to death… no, really! To be pursued by evil genius, two, no, take that thee brats, two stone-faces and one angelic sadist…..

I Was Doomed.

Ad that to the fact that the brats were already involved with each other and you got full frontal assault.

Despite to the contrary belief, I was not naïve. In war, there is no room for innocence or some such shit, ad I was fairly quickly debased of my morals, all for the sake of survival.

But all the lessons I had been through didn't prepare me for the insistent courting of some determined brats that wanted to get into my pants and later, into my life. I told them I was too old for them.

They didn't mind, reminding me I was only some 10 years older than them….and that wasn't much.

I told them they will become fed up with me after some time. They told me they would make sure they would never be bored with me. And this, coming from our resident two… sadists…. Namely Fuji and Seiichi, didn't placate me. Not by the least!

I said we have too different interests. Sanada and Tezuka stopped that train of thought – _kendo_ and English literature, especially poetry.

I argued they were already together…. Ryoga, said they all wanted me in.

I told them my place is too small to hold them all in – well, shit.-…. Atobe announced that Ore – sama is generous, and will share his mansion with us.

I said I had work…. Fuji offered to take some of my workload off….

I argued that I wasn't used to such relationships… and Ryoma, the brat he is, told me "mada mada dane, we'll teach you anyway."

The last proverbial nail in the coffin was Seiichi. He told me they would chase me until I would give into them. And knowing them, they would do it.

Stubborn brats. Beautiful, stubborn brats.

Seiichi with his angelic face and patience…

Syusuke, with his deep blue eyes and cunningness…

Ryoma, his golden eyes and catlike nonchalance…

Kunimitsu, with his resolve and smooth voice…

Genichiro, with his quiet passion..

Keigo, with his bratty ways and childlike innocence…

Ryoga, stubborn as a mule, "mada, mada daze", full of joy for life…

They are still brats, but I love them anyway. And I thank God every day for letting me bask in their love.

I have to go. It's our fifth anniversary of getting together, and they are calling me to look at the fireworks with them. It will be very merry Christmas…. and if I know my brats, it will be very rowdy, too. Not that I mind.

_**/END – OWARI/**_


End file.
